


A Highly Specialized Key Component

by JustAPassingGlance



Series: 12 Days of Christmas 2013 [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-02-23 00:26:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2527190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAPassingGlance/pseuds/JustAPassingGlance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sebastian had accepted the offer to intern at Anderson Enterprises he definitely hadn’t expected to be little more than a glorified secretary to the boss’ son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Highly Specialized Key Component

The discrepancy between what Sebastian had been expecting to do when he accepted the offer to intern for Anderson Enterprises’ in house council and what he was actually doing was so huge he had spent hours of his spare time researching exactly how one might go about suing a multi-billion dollar corporation for false advertisement. (The answer, unsurprisingly, was basically you wouldn't. Especially with that pesky clause in the contract that enumerated that his duties would include all the typical tasks expected while working as a legal intern in addition to 'anything else required of him.’)

He had beat out over 3,000 other applicants to be nothing more than a glorified secretary who wrote the occasional brief or memo.

And not only was he a secretary, he was secretary to The Boss’ son who, in so far as Sebastian could tell, had gained all of his fairly limited legal knowledge from watching episodes of Law & Order and Suits and, if asked, would probably hazard the guess that Pennoyer was an up-and-coming designer.

His only consolation was that he was making almost double what everyone else in his class was. And that if he had to spend his summer cooped up in a room with someone he’d rather it be another 20-something kid (who, by the way, had the most incredible ass he had ever seen) than the 50 year old, slightly overweight, and balding man he was supposed to be working for.

“Did you have a chance to get my dry cleaning?” Blaine’s ridiculously gelled head popped out from around the corner. He was always so obnoxiously polite when demanding Sebastian fulfill all of his menial tasks that he easily could have done for himself instead of singing operettas behind his closed office doors.

“They’ll be ready at lunch,” Sebastian informed him. Sebastian made trips to the dry cleaners with alarming frequency ever since he started his internship. Every other day Blaine had something else that needed to be brought either there or to the tailors. How he managed to completely destroy so many articles of clothing Sebastian would never understand. By the state of them you would think he spent his days wrestling bears in muddy fields. “You could try picking them up yourself,” he muttered under his breath, definitely not loud enough to be heard.

“What was that?” Blaine asked cheerfully.

“Nothing. Mental note to myself.” Sebastian might suddenly be throwing away years of studying by becoming Blaine Anderson’s errands boy but if he came away from this summer with a recommendation from  _an_   _Anderson_  he could get a job anywhere. “Anything else I can get you while I’m out?” Mostly he was lucky that a goldfish was more capable of indentifying sarcasm than Blaine, otherwise he probably would have been fired the first time he was asked to fetch a cup of coffee.

Blaine pulled out his phone and began scrolling through it. “Actually…” Sebastian’s own phone buzzed on his desk. “Whatever you can manage off the list. And don’t forget about the Voxendell meeting at 1.30.”

Sebastian faked dropping his pen on the ground so he could glare at Blaine through the desk. Of course he wouldn’t forget it. Blaine only knew about it because Sebastian had put it on his calendar and reminded him every other time they saw each other for the last week.

“I’ll be there,” he promised between clenched teeth.

“Great,” Blaine beamed, actually looking like he was happy about the fact that Sebastian would be at the meeting.

This time Sebastian managed to at least wait until Blaine’s footsteps had stopped echoing down the hall before expressing himself in rude hand gestures.

* * *

The only other benefit to working at Anderson Enterprises was the fact that he never had to work on weekend. More than once that summer a friend had cancelled on him because a big case was coming up and their weekend had been volunteered. But, while he might be expected to keep Blaine’s schedule, field his calls, and do his grocery shopping during the week, his work phone was miraculously and blissfully silent on the weekends.

It was nice, he reflected as he drunkenly stumbled through his apartment, not having to worry that he would suddenly be called in on Sunday morning. Meant he could be as irresponsible as he wanted on both Fridays and Saturday.

Simultaneously kicking off his shoes and pulling off Derrick-or-Darryl-or-Tom’s shirt, he eagerly pushed them towards the bed, letting them tumble back onto it when they got there before flipping his conquest over.

Two later his phone started ringing.

After twenty minutes Tom-or-Trevor-or-Patrick (and fuck, Sebastian really should at least start trying to learn names. Who knew if they’d ever run each other again and could serve as a useful connection somewhere) shoved him off the bed because it hadn’t stopped ringing.

“-do you want?” he grumbled into the wrong end of  the phone. Blaine’s tinny voice sounded from down by his jaw and with an aggravated sigh, he flipped the phone around. He pressed his head into his hands, feeling his inevitable hangover creep up on him, as Blaine continued prattling on.

“-but I need you to come in this today. Right now, actually.” Blaine’s voice sounded weirdly breathless and strained, as though it physically pained him to be asking this of Sebastian.

“It’s five in the morning.”

“4:48,” Blaine corrected. “I’ll see you soon.”

Before Sebastian could protest that under no circumstances whatsoever would he be seeing him within the next 27 hours, Blaine had hung up on him.

“Ughh,” he moaned, crawling back onto the bed and poking James, definitely James, awake. “Emergency at work. I need to go in. Ergo, you need to leave.”

“Fuck no,” definitely-James’ voice rose from deep within the pillow.

“Out,” snapped Sebastian, levying an extra sharp poke just below his ribs.

A hurried might-as-well blow job and leisurely shower later, Sebastian was headed out his front door. Just because he had to go in when he was called didn’t mean that he had to rush to get there.

“This better be important,” he grumbled as he tripped through the dark building. He let out an annoyed groan when Blaine’s office door was locked. In frustration he banged on it, regretting it a second later as it increased the pounding in his head. “Anderson,” he yelled. “I’m leaving if this door isn’t open in 30 seconds.”

“I need you to stay calm,” Blaine’s voice echoed from inside. “And know that I only called you because I trust you.”

“Just open the fucking door.” In the morning he might find it in himself to regret his profanity but, given the circumstances, he was impressed that he only allowed himself the one word.

The door clicked open.

The first thing Sebastian noticed when he walked in was that Blaine was wearing the most ridiculous outfit. He was dressed all in black except for a blue armored vest, including an eye mask that was presumably trying to conceal his identity. And crumbled in a heap by the door was something that looked like a cape with a bird insignia on the back. 

The second thing Sebastian noticed was a dribbled trail of blood leading from the conference table to the chair that Blaine was collapsed in.

“You are good with a needle, aren’t you?”

A month ago he would have said no. A month ago he had no idea how to thread a needle. Since then he had gained the ability to sew on a button in a minute and was fairly decent at stitching silk.

“I guess,” he hedged.

At which point Blaine launched off on an explanation about how he obviously couldn’t go to the hospital and Sebastian slowly slid into the realization that he was supposed to be putting his newly developed sewing abilities to use on his employer’s skin.

He took in the amount of blood splashed across the floor and Blaine’s quietly, desperately pleading eyes and sighed. It wasn’t like he had ever been squeamish before and he could probably get a bonus if not a couple days paid vacation out of this.

“There’s surgical suture in that drawer,” Blaine nodded in the direction of his desk. “Normally I manage myself. But I can’t quite reach this time.” Grimacing he pulled his vest and shirt off, exposing a ragged, gaping wound that ran from his shoulder to the base of his neck.

Sebastian tried not to think about how lucky Blaine was that the cut hadn’t gone any deeper. Instead he focused on not throwing up because piercing Blaine’s skin with a needle felt absolutely nothing like he thought it would.

It took longer than he thought it would and by the time he was done they were both pale and shaking.

“One minute.” He hurried as quickly as he could on unsteady legs to his desk and pulled out his ‘emergency’ flask.

“I’ma pre’end I din’t see tha’,” Blaine slurred, blood loss finally getting to him, as he accepted the flask from Sebastian and took a long drink. They passed it back and forth until it was empty.

“So,” Sebastian said slowly as he screwed the cap back on, “ _you’re_ the nocturnal avenger.”

The nocturnal avenger was the local vigilante. Mostly he was known for helping little old ladies home safely at night and talking people off rooftops because, really, their city didn’t top the list of America’s most crime ridden. But occasionally he made the news for something more daring. Two years ago he had stopped a major jewel heist and, as the police reluctantly mentioned during a press conference, he had single handled reduced the rate of muggings on the eastside by 87%.

“ _Nightbird_ ,” he moaned. “Or a’ least the Nocturnal Avenger.”

“That’s what I said.”

“With capitals,” he emphasized. “People think… can’t hear th’m. But I can.”

“Is that your superpower?”

“Wanna see somethin’ cool?” Blaine asked, completely ignoring him. He rolled off his seat and stumbled to the back wall where it took him two tries to enter the correct code into a concealed keypad. “TA-DAAA!!!” He gestured him inside the wall.

“That is pretty cool,” Sebastian agreed as he walked through the door and into a room full of high-tech gadgets and rows of capes, masks, and nunchuks.

Proudly, Blaine nodded. “You can,” he waved his hand dismissively around, “play t’mor-or-row. ‘s late.” Absently, he grabbed Sebastian’s hand and dragged him through to another room.

The room was almost entirely empty expect for a light in the corner and a double bed which he pulled them both down onto before snugly wrapping himself around Sebastian.

“I’m not sure this is-” Sebastian started to protest. Not like he never thought about what Blaine would be like in bed, but this was hardly what he had pictured.

“It’s 'kay,” Blaine mumbled, absently patting his chest.

“But-”

He was cut off by the soft snuffling of Blaine’s snores. 


End file.
